


Coffee

by Blissfulbroadway



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Character Death, Death, M/M, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, This is not actually about coffee at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 03:31:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14926304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blissfulbroadway/pseuds/Blissfulbroadway
Summary: Adding sugar to coffee doesn’t make it different from your boyfriend’sORJared and Connor have their coffee different, but it’s so similar.





	Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s some random piece of writing I thought up because I was listening to sad, pretty music all day and got inspired.

Jared had always tried so hard to save Connor. A part of him needed it. Jared wanted a purpose just as much as Connor, they only put their energy into different things. Connor tried so hard just to stay alive, and Jared tried so hard to keep Connor alive. It just didn’t seem to work out the way they wanted it to.  
  
Jared should’ve knew sooner how much Connor was hurting. It seemed so obvious now, but, at the time Jared didn’t want it to stare him in the face. Maybe if he pushed it away it wasn’t happening. He could say he was helping Connor as much as he could, that he was a good person and he wasn’t worthless.  
  
Was he worthless now?  
  
It was a cloudy, cold spring morning. Still, they drank their coffee together at the table. Connor, drinking his coffee black. Jared drank his with sugar. It matched their personalities so well: Connor’s was a clear, obvious bitterness that he could get lost in. Jared’s coffee was bitter, too. But, it was masked with a few spoonfuls of sugar, coated around the edges and hiding what was deep down. The dark, angry bitterness that raged inside. The two were both bitter and angry at the world, but one hid it better.  
  
Hands held one another, a comfortable grasp. One skinnier, bigger hand holding a smaller, tanner one. Connor already seemed to be dying on his own accord, because this was all his own fault, right? Jared wanted to believe it. Like, he was truly helping Connor try to get better, holding hands and drinking shitty instant coffee in their cramped dining room. That was complete bullshit.  
  
It was absolute bullshit, because, then, Connor stood up from the table, kissing the top of Jared’s head. He adjusted the robe that enveloped his body and made him appear smaller and frailer than he was. Connor placed a hand on Jared’s shoulder, leaning down to kiss his forehead before announcing, “I’m going to water the flowers. I’ll be back.” Jared simply, grabbed his hand, kissing the knuckles before sending him off.  
  
As Jared sipped his coffee, he heard a crash. Jared jolted, his stomach lurching. He shouldn’t have let him be alone. He should’ve paid more attention. He should’ve-  
  
Connor jumped off of the balcony. Jared didn’t care enough to check if he was watering the damn plants. They’d soon wither and die out like Connor, anyways. What’s the use of trying to save them?  
  
The moment Jared stood at the edge of the balcony, looking down and finding Connor’s unconscious body, crumpled in a heap, he let out a scream before stumbling back into the dining room, sobbing.  
  
He’d spend the next few weeks sobbing, until Connor was out of the hospital and back home. Meds refilled, mind numbed, now deep in debt. Connor felt like a burden, and so did Jared.  
  
Still, they’d spend the next few months pretending everything was fine, pretending that they’d work out and it would be okay. It wouldn’t.  
  
It was now fall. That’s exactly what Jared did. He was the one who believed he could help Connor, and he was the person who couldn’t. So, he leapt off of the roof right above his old bedroom. No one saw it  
coming. But, Connor did see what was left of him. Like Jared, Connor found his lover’s body crumpled on the ground below. He screamed and cried like Jared did, or tried to. Nothing came out.  
  
By the time Connor actually called the police, Jared had died. Connor had right then and there. Fully. Inside, at least. An eye for an eye, he guessed.  
  
Jared lost Connor so long ago before, and Connor finally lost Jared, too. Maybe, he’d lost him long ago, too. Two lost souls stuck with each other in false hope they’d be able to fix each other or themselves at the least. They couldn’t fix themselves or each other. They hurt too much, and the only way to get through was out.  
  
Connor swallowed pills that night, too many to count. Finally, he guessed. They were out. They were free.  
  
They never figured out their purpose, and now they never would. But, they weren’t hurting anymore. Still, they ended up a statistic. A story on the news. An article in the paper right beside an ad for their local market. That was all they’d ever be. Lovers who died not for each other, but close to each other. It was horrible. It wasn’t the way they should’ve gone. But, it was.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope this isn’t glorifying suicide! I definitely think that suicide is a terrible, horrifying and hard thing to deal with. It’s not beautiful, nor is it an answer to problems. This is just a writing piece I felt the urge to create, so I did.


End file.
